


Pledging Loyalty

by schxbetta



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy
Genre: Bondage, Humiliation, M/M, Masturbation, Multi, Teasing, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:01:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27080863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schxbetta/pseuds/schxbetta
Summary: Heidegger is asked to pledge his loyalty to both Rufus and Tseng. :)I'm not sorry at all.
Relationships: Heidegger/Rufus Shinra, heidegger/tseng
Kudos: 5





	Pledging Loyalty

> It comes as a surprise to find himself cornered by the two of them when he sees to finally confronting the President. Truth be told, Rufus has grown too big for his boots, Heidegger could tell that the moment that the blonde had dismissed him so soon after his father’s death. It stings even now as he thinks about it, as he collects himself, stands still at the edge of the boardroom table and - for one time only - demands some respect.
> 
> _**“Sir-”**_ the general begins his rant with a sharpness laced to his tone; not quite a shout but certainly something. He’s pissed…and it’s obvious. _ **“With all due respect, managing AVALANCHE, Sephiroth, the Junon Parade and H-”**_
> 
> he’s cut off with a wave of the hand. The same as Rufus’ father used to do. Mind you, the old man never pulled that shit with Heidegger. They’d respected one another too much…or at least, Heidegger had told himself as much.
> 
> The giant can feel the smirk laden across Tseng’s lips, who watches from the corner of the room with icy eyes and a knife dancing between his gloved fingers. Truth be told, he watches the fray like a cat watches a mouse and Heidegger can feel his hair standing on end from the thought that the Turk could _actually_ be dangerous.
> 
> **“Heidegger. Please-”** Rufus commands, his voice hardly polite. **“I’ve known for some time now that you weren’t all that happy about me taking over…”**
> 
> before the man can even shake his head, Rufus is cutting him off to continue. _That boy sure does like a speech._
> 
> **“Don’t pretend otherwise. I wont appreciate a lie.”**
> 
> _**“Sir - I-”**_ there’s hesitation, enough for Rufus’ suspicions to be confirmed. Heidegger stands red-faced and idle as the President crosses arms over his chest.
> 
> **“That’s enough. Perhaps in time you’ll come to appreciate my vision for the future of not only this company but Midgar, too. For all too long now th-”**
> 
> an exasperated sigh slips from between Heidegger’s lips. An embarrassing tell of his inner thought but one he then decides to run with. In his anger, anger that has boiled and brewed from a man left vulnerable and nude after so many dressings down, he snaps.
> 
> _**“Sir! I have served your family for many years! I have bent over backwards for this company, for you! I - I’m exhausted! My spirit belongs on a battlefield not behind a desk as some…some…pencil pusher!”**_ His anger is barely restrained as he takes a step forth, rage bubbling into a pressed brow and clenched jaw _ **. “You’re wasting me, sir! How can I crush AVALANCHE when I’m busy organising a goddamn parade! This is your doing, Rufus! And that - you don’t know what you’re doing!”**_ There it is. Vulnerability, accusation. Heidegger commits a sin he’d told himself he’d never commit. Treason. In his mind, it’s a crime to act so brash in the face of one’s master.
> 
> **“Heidegger-”** Rufus’ tone remains calm but his expression, although icy, creases with some anger. The spit of his colleague has done well to somewhat rile him and with that, he gives a nod to Tseng.
> 
> Expelling heavy breaths and clenching a fist to the bridge of his nose, Heidegger fails to notice as Tseng skirts by him with a small glass of water. _“Drink-”_ the Turk urges. _“You need it.”_
> 
> _Unfortunately, he’s right._
> 
> Heidegger takes a drink. Hell, he downs the whole thing in one. Rufus watches with a steady gaze.
> 
> **“Calm down, Heidegger. I would say that you’re better than this but…”** there it is, a smirk **“we both know that you’re not.”**
> 
> The general lifts his head, fury pooling in his chest as nostrils flare and heat builds. He’s ready to punch that cocky little bastard. Boss or not, king or no - he’s had enough. Rufus has crossed a li-
> 
> there it is. The dizziness. The immediate onset of tiredness and an ache to his muscles that hadn’t been there before.
> 
> _What have they done? What did he drink?_
> 
> _**“Ts-Tseng-”**_ Heidegger’s gaze shifts to the Turk, who stands silently near by adjusting the leather of his gloves _**“what did you-”**_
> 
> and with that, _he’s out._ Two-hundred plus pounds of muscle down and out on the boardroom table. Rufus flickers a look toward Tseng, who gives him a half-smile in return. 
> 
> For the Turk, _it’s all business._
> 
> For the President, _it’s all power._

> A couple of hours have passed by the time Heidegger is waking up and the reality of his situation is dawning on him. At first, he can see a bright light. Strobe lights. One of the old unoccupied offices maybe? Then comes the pain. An ache in his legs - his ankles spread by a hard metal bar…and then the cold; lower than room temperature and pricking the goosebumps on his skin. He’s naked. Completely bare. When the general looks down, he’s met with the sight of his own muscular chest and abs adorned with ropes. Only then does he feel the shock of restriction, the ropes that are bound around his wrists and chest. He can’t make out the many scars on his body because most are hidden beneath the coil of bondage.
> 
> “Wh-what-”
> 
> “Oh, you’re finally awake.”
> 
> Rufus’ voice can be heard from behind him, but the general can’t turn to face the blonde. Soon enough, he can feel him beside him and then he sees him in front. Fully clothed and entirely dominant. Rufus looks down on Heidegger as if he’s a dog, a gentle tut coming from the pucker of his lips as he gives his general a long, hard look.
> 
> “Submissive. That’s good. I have my ways of making people loyal to me, Heidegger. Once we’re through with you - you will be loyal. You will do anything I tell you. You will lick my boots if I ask you - you will lick his boots if I ask you-”
> 
> the blonde points toward his Turk, his right hand. The man seemingly always in his corner. Tseng offers his rival a glare and nothing more - hell, he hardly seems thrilled by the idea but for Rufus, he’d surely do anything.
> 
> Pressing his hands together, Heidegger can’t pull them from behind his back, his abs flex with every twist and pull - the man’s rage building as embarrassment leaves him pleading with his body to get him out from restraint.
> 
> “What’s wrong, Heidegger?” Rufus leans in close, breath warm to his general’s ear before he slides a gag over his head and into his mouth. “Did my father never do this with you?”
> 
> There’s spite in his words, a suspicious tone that leaves the general wondering whether Rufus had ever thought that he and Shinra HAD been intimate. Of course they hadn’t, Heidegger had dreamt it, Shinra had teased it. But it had never happened.
> 
> “Good-” the blonde purrs “shall we begin?”
> 
> Gloved fingers press to the shaft of Heidegger’s cock, soft but quickly twitching to the other’s touch.
> 
> “I figured you’d need some help, what with your age and everything-” so smarmy, so cheeky. Fucking bastard! “So, Tseng slipped a little ‘medicine’ in that drink he so politely offered you.”
> 
> Heidegger can barely move, he can barely think. Fingers curl around the base of his cock and a few tugs are all that’s needed to get him hard and needy. It shocks even him, a man so experienced and yet something like this is alien.
> 
> “I think, truthfully, all of that shouting and anger…it’s all talk-” Rufus’ separates a thumb and a finger over the edge of Heidegger’s length, a gentle pull of skin and he’s pressing nerve with the dangerous swirl of his digits. His general can only squirm in response, muffled resistance echoing from behind his gag.
> 
> Tseng parts from the wall he’s been keeping company, the man meticulous in his finding and retrieving of a small toy, one that Heidegger can hear the buzz of before he can see.
> 
> “Tseng, if you will-”
> 
> “Sir-”
> 
> Heidegger feels leather on the back of his thighs, gloved fingers intrusive to skin but also entirely harsh and unloving in their grace. Tseng pools lubricant straight from the bottle to the lower back of his superior, the cold wet dew soon dripping down Heidegger’s spine and toward his ass. With the spreader between his legs, there’s no dignity to be had in the exposure of his body; the general is quick to feel the cold touch of lubricant against his heat and then comes the prod of that toy, a gentle edge against the rim of his being. Heidegger’s attempts at resistance are once more met with futility, the writhe of his hips only encouraging the toy to edge inside of him rather than fight it off.
> 
> “Mmhmff–” muffled moans do little to stop the pair who torment him. Tseng is quick to reach around the general, his hand still occupying the toy in Heidegger’s ass before his lips are locking with Rufus’. Heidegger can only watch their tongues dance.
> 
> “Does that feel good-” Rufus whispers between kisses, an idle hand coming to the silken locks of Tseng’s hair and with that, the Turk is distracted for a moment. His grip of the toy loosens, relief spreading its way through Heidegger’s body as he turns his head to look away from the men’s affections before him.
> 
> “Oh no-” Tseng tuts, quick to pull from Rufus’ embrace to torture their ‘slave’ once again. Leather fingers grip the hair of Heidegger’s beard, a harsh pull to keep the former-soldier’s eyes on them. “You watch.”
> 
> Since when did the Turk tell him what to do?!
> 
> As Heidegger is close to anger, Rufus quickens his pace on the hand that’s tormenting his member. A rapid shake of his fist squeezes Heidegger in all of the right places before he pulls suddenly away only to then slap a harsh row of knuckles to the hardness between the general’s legs. The pleasure followed by immediate pain leaves his body confused and his mind desperate  
> \- bastard.
> 
> “He isn’t very cooperative, is he?” Tseng casts an eye back at Rufus and through the cotton of his pants, his master will be able to tell that he’s hard and wanting more.
> 
> “Mmhm-” the blonde responds, hands far from Heidegger’s hard and reddened cock “leave the toy inside of him. Perhaps when it gets too much…he’ll beg-”
> 
> Tseng smirks, a grin as smarmy as the one that had left him that faithful night so soon after the president’s death. “Yes, Mr. President-” he coos.
> 
> “I like that-” Rufus responds and before Heidegger can feel sick to his stomach, the Turk has circled back around him and is once again teasing the resistance of his ass with the vibration of the toy. At first, he’s gentle, the hum of the toy teasing the heat between the general’s legs, but then the motion becomes rougher and the lube begins to really allow things to move forward. When the toy is pressed hard enough inside, Heidegger is quick to let out an audible gasp.
> 
> Rufus brings his attention from his lover back once again to Heidegger, he presses his hand against the thickness and length of his member, an idle comment about the size of it something that (in other circumstances) Heidegger would bask in. With malice on the mind, Rufus removes the ball gag from his general’s lips, eager to hear what moans are sure to come out.
> 
> “Wh-what-is-” he can barely talk, the general entirely flustered by the teasing both his prostate and cock fall victim to “stop-” but does he really want that? The head of his cock is swollen red, his member larger than he’s seen it in a while and Tseng? Oh Tseng teeters between a gentle massage of the clenched muscle between his thighs to a rough fucking that leaves him breathless.
> 
> Truth be told, it’s bliss.
> 
> It’s absolute fucking bliss.
> 
> “Why should we?” Rufus retorts, the flat of his palm now grinding the tip of Heidegger’s sore and swollen cock - pre-cum does well to lubricate the rough, unforgiving way with which the President moves. Heidegger can only breath out his response, words now failing him entirely in his ecstasy.
> 
> “Who would have known he liked to be fucked like this-” Tseng’s voice boils rage in the pit of Heidegger’s stomach but his body is too preoccupied to stoke such a flame, instead all of the heat pools between his legs. “I bet it kills you-” he whispers, lips pressing to the back of the general’s earlobe, his tongue flicking against skin with every word “eats you up to know that you’re our slave.”
> 
> Rufus’ motion quickens, a nod to Tseng and the Turk is quickening his movement too. Heidegger moans in pleasure but he’ll be damned if he gives in -
> 
> “Submit me to me, Heidegger. Pledge your loyalty to me-”
> 
> The general squirms, his body writhe with pleasure, his thighs shaking from the orgasm that builds between them. He can feel himself getting close - so fucking close-
> 
> and then Rufus is pulling away once more, Tseng following suit.
> 
> “N-no-” Heidegger’s breaths become a beg. A yelp. The dog weeping at its master’s feet. “Please-” it kills him. It really does eat him up inside but Hades…the pleasure-
> 
> the pleasure is all too immense.
> 
> “Ah-ah-” Rufus tuts “only when you submit to me and honestly right now, I don’t think that your heart is really in it.” Rufus flicks a finger to the aching tip of Heidegger’s swelling, the harshness of his action is pain personified, the pleasure baring down through his body in an unbearable way. “I will let you orgasm if you follow my orders - like a good little dog. Okay, Stamp?”
> 
> There’s something wet in the corners of his eyes, not tears but overindulgence - his body struggles to handle the rough teasing of his masters. Heidegger wants nothing more than to relieve himself, to finally be free of the orgasm that holds him captive.
> 
> “Y-y-yes” his pride is null “sir.”
> 
> “Very good. Now…ask Tseng, NICELY, if he’ll fuck you-”
> 
> Son-of-a-! Odin, he can’t see the Turk but Heidegger can already feel the smugness radiating from him. Why must he submit himself to such torment, why must he crave the sweet release of an orgasm so powerfully? Hades, it leaves him weak. The general’s body is arched, his ass aching and begging for more, the warm ring of muscle between his legs wet with lubricant and eager to swallow another’s cock.
> 
> “Ts-Tseng-” he hates it, but he can’t deny his own body “please-”
> 
> “Beg me.”
> 
> “Tseng!” When Heidegger bites back, Rufus grips his cock. One hand tight around the shaft as the other clenches his balls - pain ruptures in his stomach, a feeling so immense that it leaves him gasping for air and rushing his words. “Tseng. Fuck me! Do it. Please!”
> 
> A laugh from the other is followed by the toy pressed inside once again, this time, the vibration is harder as is Tseng’s hand as he fucks the other with it. Rufus resumes his assault of his general’s dick, his hand never letting up from lightly squeezing his balls or tormenting his shaft. Between tugs, he even presses his lips to the tip of Heidegger’ cock - a feeling that leaves the brute even closer than before.
> 
> “Now-” Rufus’ breaths on the hair at the base of Heidegger’s shaft leave his body twitching “tell me when you’re close. Okay?”
> 
> But fuck, he’s already close - he’s a few strokes away from cumming all over that pretty blonde’s face. In his hair and on his lips, white ecstasy staining his boss’ face and hopefully his nice suit, too.
> 
> When Heidegger begins to even edge the words from his lips, Tseng stops his teasing immediately. Rufus follows suit and the two join up before Heidegger once again.
> 
> “Cum, dog-” Rufus spits, his lips locking again with his Turk’s. Heidegger watches as the pair run tongues from the pink pucker of affection to the pale of their throats, he watches Tseng bite and mark Rufus’ neck and in the absolute insanity of the situation, the way he can feel his ass cold and spread and the way his cock swells to the skin of his abs, it only takes the mere thrust of his hips for his load to be unleashed. Spunk spills from a strange mix of pain and pleasure, the hair on Heidegger’s body quickly ablaze with the fire from his loins. Pleasure never subsides as the explosion that comes from his groin turns from an eruption of lust to a soft dribble that pools down beside his knees.
> 
> “Very good-” the blonde states, pulling his affections from Tseng to instead turn his attention to his hound “now. Do you pledge loyalty to me?”
> 
> Heidegger can only nod, his body weak - his mind well and truly lost to lust. Breathy moans expel a “yes”.
> 
> He hardly watches as Rufus crosses the other side of the room and begins to undress - they have no intention of releasing his binds, but Heidegger doesn’t care.
> 
> “…Heidegger-” Tseng whispers from beside him, his eyes dark and full of lust “how do you think he ever made me so loyal?”
> 
> And with that, the two part off before Heidegger - keeping their hound restrained and neutered while they alight in each other’s awe.
> 
> How wonderful, how terrible - this ‘loyalty’ will not be seen outside of this room and Heidegger can only watch.


End file.
